Kerby's Journal

An unspoken terror loomed over Midgardborg like a vast, predatory bird.

Because it was a vast, predatory bird.

Kerberos liked his raven form because first and foremost, it meant Eydís would be someone else’s problem and secondly because Kerberos thought the form to be a vast improvement over what he started with. It was as large as an eagle with a beak to match. He hadn’t quite gotten around to making flutings yet, for silent flight, but seeing as people forgot he was there almost as soon as he arrived, he didn’t view it as imperative.

Currently he was circling far above the heads of two younglings, one eating some kind of apple confection. Or rather, she was. Some screeching and mad flapping of wings later, and the candy was his. He lighted down on a lamppost and pecked experimentally at the candy. Glazed apple. It was a marvel, really.

That was childish, you know.

Ah, Huginn. I don’t care.

After the novelty wore off he let it fall from his grasp to the ground below. Another toy that couldn’t satisfy its master for very long.

You literally stole candy from a baby.

I’m a cribrobber. Oh noes.

That’s not what that m—

Kerberos craned his head, no longer paying attention to the babbling OAIs. He heard something else, something more important, so much more. It screamed from the abyss, forever grasping at the frayed edges of reality, his reality. With a powerful downward thrust of his wings, he was in the air again. He rode the eddies up and up, higher and higher, until all of Midgard was before him.

It spiraled through space, out of control, a pebble among rocks.

He screamed. He screamed as hard as they screamed. He screamed so that they could hear him, so they would know he felt their pain, felt the pain that destroyed him. The pain that never went away. He was an event horizon, the beginning of the end, and all of reality bent around him, refused to know him. Forsaken. Forsaken by everything but the pain—

He was not himself. He was dead, long dead, forever dead, stillborn. But the screams needed him, wanted him, coveted him. And he was theirs. Always theirs. Thousands of fingers traced themselves over his skin, through his feathers even now.

Tucking his feathers tight to his body, he dove down to a street on the Midgardborg. Spreading his wings wide enough, his talons wrapping around the bound arm of a young child. Bright gray eyes started into his own black ones. Kerberos spoke, through the gravely vocal cords of a raven, “Mikky.”

The child grinned. “Kerby.” The arm slowly went to his side as Kerberos made his way onto his shoulder. “It’s been a while.”

“A hundred years is but a blink, Mikky.” He ruffled his feathers, ran his beak through the ones on his shoulder. “But a blink…”

The child began to walk down the alleyway. “Yeah, yeah.” They gestured dramatically in the air. “But look at what’s happened in the past two.”

Kerby watched two Iduneus that he recognized walk past them. The two glanced at the odd duo, but kept to themselves. As quietly as he could while still being comprehensible, he said, “I need some information, Mikky.”

A brow raised over the gray-teal eye nearest to him. “Information has gotten expensive over the years, Kerby. You can’t just show up and demand it anymore. Things are tight.”

“What is the price?”

The kid bit their lower lip. “Well, normally it’s an exchange. Mine for yours, yours for mine.”

Kerby let a ‘hm’ rumble through his breast. “I haven’t found anything yet. I was hoping for a lead.”

The kid shrugged and Kerberos put out a wing to keep his balance. “I dunno what ta tell ya,” Mikky said, a drawl drifting into the smooth, silky voice the child had. “Well, there’s one thing.” He grinned as a matte black eye stared at him. “Some kids have been going missing.”

“Kids, or?”

“I’m talkin’ Drakonrhedi-born kids. Bastard sons and daughters of the riders that stay for a night, get a lay, then leave and never come back.” Mikky shrugged, then gestured to his body. “Kinda like this kid. Poor sod.”

“I did wonder how you got this one,” Kerby said.

“He fell,” was all Mikky would say. Something told Kerby that I pushed him came before that. Probably Muninn.

Speaking of…

Kerberos, said the OAI in sync. We’re glad to see you’ve come back to us. Come all the way back, get away from Chaikin.

Kerberos made a show of preening himself. “Should I fix this problem?”

“You could. Or not. Free world, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” He snorted in amusement. “I take it it’s not you for all of them?”

“Naw, this one should hold me.” Mikky glanced down at the frail body he bore. Starved. Must have been a street rat. “Especially if I get more bandages on ‘im.”

“Very well.” He bobbed his head around in thought. “That’s all you have?”

“No.” Mikky grinned an impish grin. “But I figured I’d let you have some fun.”

The child shrieked as he suddenly took off, flapping still-ragged wings. Mikky yelled something after him, but he didn’t care. A child kidnapper? Dare he say, even a killer? That went against all he had observed. Children were sacred, or something. He didn’t understand the hype. But a serial kidnapper sounded interesting.

He was certain the death throes would be just as beautiful.